Friday, June 20, 2008

Over the years of being a bridesmaid and being friends with other habitual bridesmaids, I have heard horror tales of weddings that are doomed. Therefore, I have compiled a list for my loyal reader of signs that you should not have a wedding (elopement yes, wedding no). If you are suffering from any of these signs, I encourage you to sell your wedding dress for two plane tickets to Las Vegas pronto.

Signs you should not have a wedding:

1. The stress of your wedding gives you IBS

2. The financial stress of the wedding puts your father on anxiety medication/panic attack medication/heart medication. Any medication really.

3. Just mentioning your groom-to-be's name causes you to burst into hives (reconsidering your relationship is a strong possibility)

4. The husband-to-be is a drug dealer (ummm, cancel marriage in general here)

5. Your parents plan on selling their generations old land in Europe on which cork trees grow in order to pay for your wedding.

6. Your parents plan on selling their home and moving into a one-bedroom condo in order to pay for your wedding

7. You are going into debt on top of the $25K student loan, car payment, and mortgage you already owe to pay for your wedding

8. All parents are divorced, some are remarried, all hate each other and your fear that your mother will attack your dad's new wife with the cake knife causes nightmares and an ulcer - this is a pretty good indication that you should not have a wedding

9. The groom's father is dying from a terminal illness but your need to walk down the aisle in a white dress overrides your husband's need to have his father see him get married (perhaps it is time to re-evaluate your priorities)

10. Your two families hate each other Capulet/Montague style and there is a possibility of gang/mafia/Godfatheresque warfare at the reception (how did you even get this far?)

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Do you find that before the big day, the bride is on a quest to make herself as beautiful as possible? That she goes to extra lengths she would never ordinarily go because she is saying some old fashioned vows? Some brides are so ridiculous that they don't even look like themselves on their wedding day; practically scaring their husbands-to-be.

One bride friend grew her hair long, even though she has never had long hair in her life. And the day after the honeymoon she cut it off. True, she looked pretty but not what she looked like everyday. She regretted the hair growth.

I am a bridesmaid next week in Cuba for the loveliest bride ever. She is so sweet that she is terrified of doing what she wants for her big day in the fear she will offend someone. Cuba Bride is naturally very pretty and she doesn't wear much make-up. We did a field trip to MAC to get her a bride palatte that looked natural and yet 'done-up'. I thought this would be the extent of her bridal day beauty routine. But she called me the yesterday to ask if she should get fake nails. I practically screamed at her. Oh wait, maybe I did.

The point is, this girl is NOT a fake nail kind of girl. It would look absurd and she would never have them again. She just needs a nice manicure. Fake nails require ridiculous upkeep and they ruin your nails. My poor friend was a bridesmaid to a terror bride who insisted ALL bridesmaids have matching fake nails. MATCHING FAKE NAILS!!! WTF? She has naturally strong, healthy nails but for the next year she had to repair the damage that was done to them. Not to mention $100 down the toilet.

So why do bride's insist on changing themselves for the big day? I know I know, it's the same reason I am going to the tanning salon and have ended up with a purple bikini line (perhaps that should wait another day): those photos last forever. You want to look your best. I fully intend on shedding 10 pounds and getting my hair done when I get marries. However, usually when I get my hair done I look back at pictures and cringe.

Which brings me right back to my original point . . . to have or not to have fake nails? To cringe or not to cringe later in life?

At the end of the day, and after forty years, are you really going to care? Probably not. Cuba Bride - I'll paint your nails for you!

Thursday, June 12, 2008

I fall into the former camp. I have always loved dogs - well there was a brief cat loving period but it ended when my cat got run over - and have always had dogs. My first was a sheltie named McTavish who was with me in my early life. He let me crawl all over him and pull his hair.

Then there was my grandma's dog, Blackie, a border collie. He was there for my walks in the wheat fields and always wanted to be patted, which I would do even though he was a bit smelly and quite matted.

Finally, there was Molly. Molly Molly Molly. I got her for my 11th (or 12th?) birthday and after a long and wonderful life, she passed away a little over a year ago.

I begged my parents for her. When they finally relented, I scoured the paper everyday for a dog (this was way before all those designer dog stores were around) and found her for $100. I called all weekend with no answer. On Sunday night, when the people finally picked up (after being away for the weekend - the paper ran the ad early) I hung up without saying a word. I made my mum call back and we arranged to go over right then and there.

As much as I like to think she was my dog, she was clearly my mother's. It was mum who walked and fed her, mum who let her sleep with her, mum mum mum. So Molly ended up being my furry sister.

Since moving to Rainy City, I have long wanted another dog. But there were so many things stopping me: I felt like I was cheating on Molly, I was broke, I had a crazy schedule, I travelled.

Well, now things are slightly different. Molly is gone and I will always miss her, but I am no longer cheating. Dogs are not that expensive and I am no longer that broke. My schedule is actually okay, I am at home all the time, or most of the time - and if on set, dogs are welcome in the trailers. I still travel. But I don't leave for months at a time like I once did.

I am ready for a dog - but terrified at the same time. My mother thinks it is too much responsibility, but the idea of a routine is actually exciting. I should really start getting out of bed at 8 anyways (I need to train it to sleep in). Dogs are great for depression, I can go off my little pink pills and use the routine and care of a dog to get through tough times. Dogs can also travel quite well, and New York is a dog friendly city.

The Engineer is not a dog person. And as much as he wants to be happy for me, he is not. He is an Engineer after all, and engineers tend to think way more with their heads than their hearts. They also tend to come up with all of the potential problems rather than the potential greatness. I suppose that is why they pay him the big bucks.

I have a dog-lema. I want one, I feel I am ready for one, but the big supporters in my life are not too thrilled about it.

And then there is the traveling factor. But I can figure that out can't I? Besides, they let dogs in England now . . . . . and every Best Western.

And just like brides, there are different types of bridesmaids. I am on wedding #7, so I feel by this time I now know the different types quite well. Here they are:

1. Dictator Bridesmaid. This is the maid who likes to do the job good and fast, with military precision. She takes on the tasks the bride has given, barks out orders, and reprimands the others when they mess something up (even the grandmother of the groom). She prefers to work in assembly lines or teams. This is the girl who gets the job done. Sometimes this maid may be worse than the bride and turn into a bit of a bridesmaidzilla. But she'll calm down eventually.

2. The Organizer Bridesmaid. Not to be confused with the Dictator. Although similar, this Organizer is the gal who plans the showers at her home, the stagette, and any other wedding related activities. She likes to run around town, gathering the perfect little items to make her home wedding-shower-ready and planning menus. She calls the Dictator often, who in turn will get all the cheese and fruit cut properly.

3. The Fashionista Bridesmaid. This is the girl who gives the loudest opinion on dress choice and colour schemes. But this is okay as the other ladies trust her in this department - they will listen to her when she convinces the bride to choose black dresses for a New Year's wedding for the glamour factor. She is the one to pick out which colour parasols the gals will carry, what shoes look best, and she will apply the false eye-lashes on all the women for the Big Day.

4. The Happy-Go-Lucky Bridesmaid. This bridesmaid is just happy to be a bridesmaid. She'll go along with whatever the bride (and the above bridesmaids) want. She'll show up to showers and stagettes with ice in tow (or whatever they need her to pick up) and just smile lots.

5. The Anti-Wedding Bridesmaid. This is the girl who is a bit of a wild card. The bride asked her to be in the wedding party because she is a good friend, both are excited in the beginning but it turns out that this girl could care-less about wedding talk/stuff/parties. She'll be the last one to answer any of the emails or add her two cents. On the day, she smiles and has a great time, but up until then she doesn't do much for the bride. She will surprise you when she kicks over the MOG or flower girl to catch the bouquet.

Sometimes these ladies will clash. They may even end up in different 'camps' and not really mesh well together. This is what happens when you put females in tight-fitting dresses, you can't expect them all to love each other or be happy at all times.

You can fall into one or more categories. Or you may be type 1 for one wedding and type 5 for another, it just depends.

All that really matters is that you make sure you have nice hair on the day and get some cake.

In preparation for my travels to Cuba to be bridesmaid #7, I have decided to forgo the tanning cream and hit the fake 'n bake. Which is really stupid when you think about it. I don't want to get a sunburn in Cuba so I am pre-heating myself. If I was going to start smoking would I hang out with smokers to get my lungs ready? Actually, maybe I would.

Anyhoo, I trotted off the the tanning salon in which I get my slightly darker-white fix in the stand up beds. I like these bed because they are (a) fast (b) I can dance in them and (c) I don't feel like I am getting into a coffin. If you have never been in a stand-up, I think you should try it. You go in, the fan turns on and blows your hair like a rockstar, the music is playing and you hold on to these handles to get an even tan - all the while dancing. Very fun.

The one thing I don't do when tanning is use those tan creams. I think they are ridiculously expensive for smelly cream and I don't think they do anything. My friend told me that baby oil works just as well. But isn't that what they used in the 60's to tan with and now all those ladies look like wrinkled prunes? Well, I got some anyways. And let me tell you frankly: baby oil (I got baby gel actually) and tanning DO NOT MIX.

First, baby oil is oily. Obviously. It is heck to get off. Not only was I sticky/shiney after getting out, but it wouldn't come off. I rubbed myself with the towel. I showered. I went in the pool for crying out loud. The stuff stays on! I am a sticky, oily, baby-smelling mess.

About Me

This blog started out as a record of my adventures of being a bridesmaid (eight times!) but has since turned into tales of raising two dogs, a bi-coastal romance, and horror stories about life as an actress in Vancouver/New York.